Gabriel's Prophet
by Madcap Moonrise
Summary: Weeks have passed since Michael's disobedience. The books of the Lord in Heaven have been unwritten and it has fallen to the prophets of a new age to forge other tomes. As Jeep and Charlie search for brothers in arms, Gabriel seeks penance from his Father. Who's footsteps better to follow than Michael's, a most beloved brother and son? Warning: O.C's, read full description in chp.1
1. Among the Myrtle Trees

DESCRIPTION :

Weeks have passed since Michael's disobedience. The books of the Lord in Heaven have been unwritten and it has fallen to the prophets of a new age to forge other tomes. As Jeep and Charlie search for brothers in arms, Gabriel seeks penance from his Father. Who's footsteps better to follow than Michael's, a most beloved brother and son? For the first time since his creation, the archangel takes up orders of his own: To find and protect the new Prophets. But who will he find and how will she change him? How will he change himself?

Follow this (relatively) brief fanfic about one new Prophet and one Archangel to find out.

GABRIEL'S PROPHET:

Chapter 1. "Among the Myrtle Trees"

Arin sighed and unfolded her hands. She opened her eyes, smiling and stretching in the splotchy sunlight. Meditation always had a way of making her feel new. She gathered up the quartz around her and stood, placing them in a blue velvet bag. From the same bag, she removed two bracelets made of smooth soot-colored stones. Hematite. It these troubling times, they helped keep her grounded when her focus alone couldn't.

She clipped one bracelet to each wrist and pulled the drawstring on the bag closed. Pushing open the trunk at the foot of her mattress, Arin placed the bag gently inside and traded it for some pants and a shirt. Her skin warmed the cold fabric of her tank-top and jeans. She bounced up and down in them to loosen herself up, then strode to the windows and locked all the shutters down. At the door, she jammed her feet into a pair of cracked leather boots. She pushed open the heavy wooden door and tied back her hair.

"Ok guys," Arin said, "let's get ready."

The horse and the dog nosing around in the meadow outside looked up at her, at each other, then jogged over. Turning, Arin looped a huge chain through the handle on the door and locked it closed. Beaucephus, a chestnut colored horse with white spotted legs, and an ashen colored shepherd called Atreyu followed her to an open faced shack attached to the one room cabin. Arin quickly brushed the horse free of dirt and set a light weight saddle on his back. She slipped a halter on his nose and looped the lead so that it became a set of reins. "Ok buddy," she scrubbed his forehead, "time to go."

She swung up onto her horse. "Atreyu," she addressed the dog, "look out." She forked her fingers towards her eyes, then pointed into the trees and over the mountains. "If they come, go to the mines." The dog sat down and wagged his tail, staring at her. She knew he understood; she could feel it.

Arin let a ragged breath loose and adjuster her seat. Beau turned and trotted off, leaving the dog and the cabin to the quiet of the woods.

The trip was long. It took till late afternoon to even reach the city limits, and longer still to scout it out. All was quiet, just like last week. Arin felt relief wash through her. Riding through the streets, silent but for the echo of horse hooves, should have been eerie. It wasn't. Wherever the things had gone, it was well out of her path and she was grateful. Finally, Arin came up on a minimart. She eased Beau to a stop and slipped off, taking a set of burlap bags with her. "Stay here," she pointed at her horse. "Ok?"

He nickered deep in his throat and shook himself. "I'm gonna take that as a 'yes'." She eyed him one more time before walking cautiously into the mart. A few minutes in each section, grabbing canned goods and bottled waters, she searched for other things she might need; medical supplies, hunting supplies, maps. Arin was stuffing a new compass into her pocket when the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She froze.

Turning her head, she saw nothing. She heard nothing, so why the sudden anxiety? Snatching a role of fishing line, Arin heaved her bags over her shoulder and headed for the doors. She got there and peered out. There was no one. No one. Not even Beau.

"Damn it," she growled to herself and darted out of the mart. First, she headed North. Wrong, North was too comfortable. _Go West_. Arin grit her teeth and rounded the corner of the shopping center, headed in the direction her body seemed to most loath going. If there was something she should fear, and her horse was gone, then he'd be where it was.

Carefully, Arin slipped along the alley walls and out into an overgrown drainage ditch. These were all over the city, meant to take excess water from the roads and rivers during the mountain storms that frequented these parts. Trees grew tall along the edges, but brambles and wildgrass reigned supreme here. Adrenalin was pumping through her as she peered out over the lower grasses. Her boots squished in the damp soil. She rolled her fingers over the hematite on her wrists and took a deep breath. There, at the tree line about 1000 yards ahead of her, Beau stood with his head in the shadows.

Fear grabber her hard, icy fingers locking around her ankles and lungs. Hard to breath, hard to move, she headed for him. "Beau," she whispered. "Beau baby." No response but the swish of his tail. "Beau goddamn it," she ground her teeth. "Come here."

Still nothing, and she was almost at his flank. "Beau, what the hell are you doing?" Arin's voice was low and quiet, but harsh as she put a hand on his rear. The horse simply swung his head to look at her, turned his attentions back to the shadows of the trees. She followed his gaze, saw hands on his nose and the distinct line of arms dissipating into the dark.

"Can I help you?" She demanded out loud, blinking to try and better focus into the dimness. Slowly, the hands stopped stroking Beau's nose and fell back. They hung at the sides of a man, Arin could see him now. He was huge, over a full foot taller than her. His arms were chiseled and attached wholly to a set of impossibly broad shoulders. His chest was covered in a single plate of armor, black shirt and pants under leather dressings. His neck was solid, topped by a profound jawline and an oval face crowned with cropped, dark brown hair. A heavy brow and almost glowing blue eyes regarded her. They weren't any kind of blue she'd ever seen before. Ethereal and radiant, yet deep and troubled; they had a kind of light all their own. He was absolutely stunning, and yet, every fiber of her being told her to be afraid.

He offered her no response, only stared at her with those eyes. Tight lipped, she stayed by Beau's backside. Stand strong, she told herself. "I'd like my horse back," Arin said after a moment.

Finally, the man blinked. "I did not mean to keep him," he said, taking a step back and bowing his head just the slightest. There was an aged manner in which he spoke that told to a rigid upbringing. It defied the depth of his tenor and tone, seeming too controlled. That wasn't all that Arin noticed though; his teeth were straight. Not small and sharp, they were normal teeth. So, he was what? The only man left on the planet? Or, at least, the only sane one she'd seen in going on three weeks now. _Sanity still debatable_, Arin reminded herself.

"Thank you," she said, taking just enough steps forward to reach the reins. "Come on, Beau," she mumbled as she slowly drew him away from the man in the trees. The horse looked at her, exasperation in his features. Arin backed away, ignoring the way her boots stuck deep in the mud and keeping her eyes on the treeline. Beau lifted his legs high, dancing around her to find dryer footing. "Stop that," she whispered at him. Every time he crossed in front of her she lost sight of the blue-eyed man.

"How did you know to find him here?" His voice rumbled in the air when she was about 12 yards out.

Arin paused, the heel of her boot sinking deep. Beau stood at the end of the reins and snorted. "I felt it… him… um, you." Her voice faded to a mumble, having immediately regretted talking.

The man's head tilted. "Felt me?"

"Whatever," she quipped shortly. "It doesn't matter, just stay over there. We're leaving, the cities all yours man."

"Mmm," he made a sound as if in thought, Arin guessed, if thought made sound. Around him, the dark rustled and lifted. Arin's breath hitched in her throat. They were wings, huge black wings.

"What are you?" she gasped.

He took a step toward her, even bigger in the light.

"I said stay there!" She shouted at him and pulled Beau closer to her. He took another step. _Shit_, Arin's head screamed at her. _Shit, shit, shit!_ She tossed the burlap packs over the saddle and tried to join them. "Fuck!" she shouted, the mud sticking her to the spot. How was her horse walking in this!? She slapped Beau's rear anyway. "Run! Run home Beau!" He jumped away from her in surprise. The blue-eyed man wasn't five feet from her. "BEAU GO HOME!" she screamed, pointing.

The horse turned and heaved himself into a run, kicking up his heels. He got to the top of the opposite side of the ditch and stopped to look back at her. His feet nervously danced underneath him, but he wouldn't leave her. "Arg!" Arin shouted in frustration. "Goddamn it horse!"

"Thou shall not take the Lord's name in vain," a voice sounded from behind her. Arin turned around. He was right there, right on top of her, staring down. His eyes were a mix of anger, agony and righteousness. She shrieked as he leaned down toward her, striking out at him. Arin felt her hand make contact with his skin, but she lost her balance and topped backward into the mud. When she looked up at him, he seemed frozen. His head was turned to the right from the open-palmed slap she'd laid into his cheek, eyes wide. Arin took the opportunity and grappled to her feet. She took off running as quickly as she could manage.

The creature simply stood there though. He didn't pursue, or rage at her. He just stood. There was a tingle rippling across his face in five thin lines. It felt first like tiny lighting strikes, then relegated itself to a slight, steady burn. He was stunned. Never in his existence had he felt this. Not in the turmoil of heaven or hell or in all the wars he'd accompanied man through. Not at the hands of his brothers or his father. Though he had always known it was there, Pain was always at the edges of his grasp. A concept, rather than a reality. Like so many things; hate, anger, joy… even love… to him, pain was just the sense of emptiness. Until now.

He'd crossed the threshold between knowing and having, theory and experience. He _felt_ it. He felt pain, and his skin held onto it like a memory.

Looking up, he wondered why. _Why now, father?_ He asked. Since his creation he had begged to feel, truly feel something. Anything. He had always been told it was not his place, so why now? Why her? The answer came to him like a secret wrapped in layers. With the fate of man undone by Michael, was he now free too? Was he finally, truly, alive?

He blinked and came back to himself. The girl was gone, as was her horse atop the hill. Taking a deep breath, he beat his wings and lifted off the ground. He was only airborne for seconds when he saw her; bent low over her horse's neck, hair tangling in his mane as he ran. Fists clenched, he shot toward them, landing in the grass like a comet.

Dirt flew like little warheads, causing Beau to skid to a halt and Arin to rocket to the ground beside him. When the thin layer of brown mist and clods settled, the blue-eyed man was standing before her, Beau's reins in hand.

"S-stay away from me," Arin ordered, eyes widening. He wasn't human; he had to be one of those things.

"I wish you no harm," he voice rolled like lazy thunder, gaze falling over her like a storm. Was that worry in his eyes? Beau sidled around next to him, unsure if he should reflect his persons fear, or revel in the man presence.

"Yeah right," Arin shouted, reaching for a can of beans that had been dislodged with her. "I swear to God, I'll kill you if you come near me!"

He smiled a little, thoughts suddenly elsewhere, before he focused on her again. Was that amusement? She couldn't tell, but when he lifted a foot to advance on her, she hurled the can at him. It pinged off his forehead and he didn't so much as flinch.

_Interesting_, he scowled at the painlessness, and bent toward her. He stretched a hand out to help her up. She batted it away and the feel of her skin on his, however brief, was incredible. Pausing, he brought his hand back to himself and ran his fingers along the skin she'd slapped. The sensation in his cheek had already faded, but it had felt something like the current.

"Don't be afraid," his said as delicately as he could. Trying again, more slowly this time, he knelt. His wings rustled at his back as he gently extended his hand to her, this time more out of human tradition and intent to aid. It was clear she wouldn't take his help anyway.

Arin cringed, but stayed still otherwise. "What do you want?" she practically spit at him. A wave of something washed through his features, though muted and subdued. Not like human emotion, but to Arin, she sensed that it was frustratingly close.

"My name is Gabriel," he said, hand still outstretched. "How is it that you come to feel angels?"

-GP- Mudwine-

So by now I hope you've guessed that Arin and her animal buddies are the main O.C.'s, if any. Please post any comments, questions and correction; after all, a writer is only as good as her worst critic.


	2. Law as Delivered by Angels

Chapter 2. Law as Delivered by Angels

What he wanted to ask was '_how have _I_ come to feel _you_?'_ But first it seemed that the situation needed clarifying. He waited with otherworldly patience as he watched something flicker in her green eyes. Her lips moved, whispering words only his ears could hear; _angels_… _Gabriel, Michael, Uriel, Raphael_…. _Oh my God_…. _Angels_… She looked at him now, really looked at him, and though her teeth clicked together, her lips stayed parted. He could almost feel her soaking in his every detail. Almost.

She mumbled, breathless, "O Captain and Leader of the armies of heaven, unworthy as we are, we beseech you without cease to surround us with your intercession and cover us beneath the shelter of the glory of your ethereal wings." Her voice grew louder and her eyes widened. "We bend our knee and cry out with perservance: 'Deliver us from danger, O Prince of the Powers on high.' Saint Gabriel the Archangel, I venerate you as the Angel of the Incarnation, because God specially appointed you to bear the messages concerning the God-Man." He was surprised to hear her say those words, and surprised still that she continued. "Comfort and console me in the problems, trials and sufferings of daily living, as you consoled our Savior in his agony and Mary in her sorrows and Joseph in his trials. I put my confidence in you, Saint Gabriel. _That_ Saint Gabriel our Archangel?" She asked almost in a shouting roar.

He simply nodded, were pride a thing he felt, he imagined he would be filled with it. Or perhaps, the memory of his past actions accosted him, not.

"You can't be real," she told him, reaching out to touch his hand.

"No?" he asked, not sure if his throat was tight in anticipation, or something else. "I am Gabriel, I who stand in the presence of God." Her fingers brushed the skin of his palm. She was warm, a little like the sun, a little like standing before the Father. He let out a short breath and watched her watch him. There was wonder in her eyes as they traced the lines of his wings.

"Tell me, Eve's daughter, how you know me so well?" he asked in reference to her prayers. He watched her hands, waiting for her touch again.

Arin swallowed as she looked at his mace. "My parents were both Comparative Theologians… but…" She reached for him and stopped, retracting her hand. Her eyes hardened. "They would still be here if angels were real." She pointed her gaze at his blue eyes. "Not in all this _hell_ is there an angel standing right in front of me." She grit her teeth. "Where were your armies to guard us? To defend us against the wicked? If you're real, where were you when we needed you!? When I prayed for you to save us!?" The young woman dragged herself to her feet, standing over him. "WHERE WERE YOU!?"

The strings on her wrists snapped and the shimmering, ashen beads shot away from her skin. Beau jumped to the side, nickering as he pulled the reins from the angels' hand. Even Gabriel felt the waves of energy coming off of her then, as strong and pure as the hymns of the angels. He looked up at her from his knee, the closest thing to sorrow that he could feel ebbing through him the same as it had the night he'd taken battle against Michael.

"Mariana and Andrew Bishop, Christopher, Nena, Jacob," she rattled off names, screaming at him. "Casey, Briana, Nate, Amy, Anthony, Debbie, Talena!" She just kept going, and through her raving Gabriel got to his feet, realizing their moment had passed. "Nicky, Barry, Rachel," she screamed more names at him, pointing her finger and waving her arms.

"Human, I-" he began, trying to calm her down. It didn't work.

"Arin! My name is Arin and they are _dead_!" She ran at him "They are _all_ dead because you abandoned us! You forsook us! WHY!?"

Arin barreled headlong into Gabriel's chest, trying to push him, bowl him over. It didn't work; she only pushed herself backwards. Her touch did its damage though, letting a cold and painful hand grab his heart and twist. Gabriel felt tears in his eyes as his insides twisted with a sort of longing he'd never known before. It wracked his whole body. He could feel it in his blood, all the way out to his wingtips. The mammoth angel pressed his fingers against the breastplate over his heart. _Is this agony?_ He wondered at the pain. _No_, he looked at the little human girl sobbing into the grass, pounding her fist into something more giving than he.

_That is agony_.

He knelt slowly as the tidal waves of anger and hurt flowing from the girl lessened. Over her, Gabriel parted his lips to speak and tasted his own tears. He placed a large hand on her back, a ripple of sorrow rolling through him anew. She barely looked up at him, mumbling, "you can't be real, you can't."

He took her chin in one hand the way he'd seen humans do for centuries and turned her red, puffy face to look at him. Her lip was bleeding; somewhere in her anger she must have bitten it. "I assure you, I am authentic." His eyes searched hers for something, he didn't know what. "Believe me when I say that I come to repent my sins against you." Her sobs had slowed to little hiccups. "Arin, please forgive me."

She stared at him, her nose almost running. His eyes were deep and blue and all-encompassing. His brow was pulled together in genuine regret. Arin was tempted. "No," she said, pulling his hands from her face and scooting backwards. "Leave me alone."

Gabriel's eyes cast down and away. He should have presumed her answer, but he couldn't acquiesce to her request. He needed to know what was different about her, why his father wouldn't answer his questions about her. Was it that he had left of his own accord, or was there something more? There had to be, he would have received a response to his queries if there weren't. His faith was charged.

"I cannot," he finally told her and stood.

Arin shook her head and choked out, "why not, you didn't want to be around when it mattered."  
"There is information I believe pertinent to your future," Gabriel tried.

"You know when that would have helped?" She grumbled and wiped her face off, finally in control of herself. "Around three weeks ago."

Irritation began to prick at the angel. He couldn't embrace it, but he knew the way it edged around his being. Gabriel pushed it away, grasping his hardest at being understanding. Why had it always come easier to Michael? "Arin," he tried.

"No, you _will not_ call me by my name," she hissed at him.

Gabriel rumbled, his shoulders tensing and his hands turning to fists. "Is there another name by which I may call you, then?"

"No," she said again, picking a small bead up from the grass. "I have to go." She wobbled to her feet and rubbed her thumb hard against the blackish pebble.

Silently, Gabriel watched her. He wanted to help her, then wandered if there were other levels of want. Was the concept of want like that of pain and sorrow? Could he _feel_ it, now, with her? He bent and gathered up the stones that had broken away from her wrist and lay in the ground at his feet. He rolled them against his fingers the way she had done but, save their size and weight, they felt the same to him as his mace. His straight shoulders sagged a little, rustling his wings.

Watching her gather a few stray cans and nestle them in the sack that straddled her horse, Gabriel tightened his jaw. He strode to her and she turned just in time to bear her hands up as arms against him. Her brown hair was wild around her face, big eyes fighting back her fears. Was this the beauty in their defiance that Michael saw so readily?

"I know I can't hurt you, but touch me again _angel boy_ and will break my bones on your face trying." Arin practically growled at him.

_Or was it that_, he paused to think. _So poetic, her threat_. It spoke to a side of him seen only when commanded by his father, the parts that were not the exalted messenger. The warrior, instead. Either way, he was beginning to wholly see the righteousness of Michael's actions.

Gabriel held out his hand and opened his palm. "I believe these are yours," he didn't bother to look down at the stones, only held Arin's gaze.

Cautiously, the young thing glanced down at his hand. Beau bent his neck around to see if it was edible, then made his disappointment audible with a snort. Arin gingerly picked up a stone and looked at it. Meditation, grounding. She reminded herself. _Find your center_. "Thank you, I guess," she mumbled and snatched the rest from his palm. Her brief touch was enough to role a heat of gratification through the angel. It was the oddest sensation, and it made his heart full. Oh yes, there were levels of want. He wanted now in a manner foreign to him. He wanted there to be more stones in his hand; he wanted to feel her reach for them again.

"You are welcome," he spoke to ease the stirring.

She clinked the stones into one of her pockets, then looked up at him. He hadn't moved at all, only stood like a sentry in before her. Arin glanced away, swallowed, and looked back at him. His eyes were studying her. Those eyes that seemed so genuine moments ago, even against the walls of her rage for him. _If this is real,_ she thought. _If he is real, an angel, why was he walking the earth now? Why here, when there was no one left to save? Surly there were cities somewhere left to purge of evil, or something._ Arin ground her molars. Did she believe enough to believe in him? _No_. The girl put her hands on the saddle's pommel and skirt, starting at the leather. _Well… maybe_. She took a deep breath and suppressed the churning in her gut, deciding to take a chance on answers, rather than ride away from what she'd been begging to know for going on 21 days.

"So," she asked slowly. "Really, where were you when they came through here, those things? I mean, I was totally ready for the zombie apocalypse or something like that, but you're an angel. Aren't there supposed to be armies of you guys watching out for us, or something?"

_Or something_, Gabriel thought. He pondered telling her the truth. "The answer to your question is… lengthy."

Arin looked up at the sky. "But you'll tell me," she kept on. It was far later than she was normally off the cabin grounds. It wasn't safe out here after dark, even with an 'angel.' She let her eyes slide to see him, but kept her figure taught toward the horse.

Gabriel nodded.

"Do you promise you won't kill me? Or turn me into one of those… creatures?" Arin lifted herself onto her horse, pretending not to feel the bruise growing on her backside. She must have bounced off him harder than she'd thought.

He nodded again.

"Uh uh, cowboy," she narrowed her eyes. "Swear to God," the words ground out of her mouth like rocks on a grate.

He paused, keeping her eye contact. _I doubt he'd hear me now_, he thought before bowing his head toward her, eyes still bright and blue and locked on her own. "I, Gabriel who stands in the light of the Lord, who speaks his prose to the brethren, swear upon the name of thy Holy Father that I, by omission or otherwise, shall beget you no ill."

A flicker of something passed through the girls' features. Gabriel had watched mankind for lifetimes, and he knew it. Not surprise, something akin to appreciation. A small commendment. For now, her censure of him was dissuaded.

"Ok," Arin nibbled at her bottom lip, still not entirely sure. "Come on," she rose in her seat and Beau moved forward. His walk was fast; he didn't like being out this late in the day either. They'd be lucky to make it to the cabin before nightfall.

"Where do we go?" the blue-eyed angel asked, his voice sounding less like a question and more like a statement. So rigid. So unlike his eyes.

Her reply was gruff as she shook off the thoughts of him. "Home, and no more questions. Not until I get mine answered anyway."

Gabriel simply rolled his shoulders and fell into stride beside the horse. He kept quiet, even in his step. She couldn't hear him moving with her at all and it was only by feel alone did she mark his presence when she wasn't looking. Arin glanced at him regularly though, and not entirely by choice. She was drawn to it, like a moth to the flame. Fear still wriggled in her gut for him, but there were other things too. Like trying to ignore the way he was never winded. Or the way he moved under that armor. Or… in her head she slapped herself. _Stop it_. They walked for hours in silence, leaving the town behind and treading the slender elk trails through the surrounding mountains. They crossed a thin river and passed huge caverns, and finally, as the last light of sun faded, they broke the edge of the meadow across from her cabin. Arin drew Beau to a stop. She strained to see in the fading light. Patting Beau's neck, she whistled. Quiet moments passed before Gabriel drew himself into a taught stance and laid a hand on his mace. He stepped in front of Arin and the horse.

"What-" Arin cut herself off from asking what he was doing when she saw movement in the grasses. Seconds later, relief mitigated her emotions. Atreyu bounded out of the grass with a bark.

"A dog," Gabriel pointed out, still combative.

"Yeah," Arin got off the horse. "My dog. Come here buddy," she called him into her arms. Uncharacteristically, Atreyu made a wide circle around the angle. He bristled his fur and growled low. She scratched the mutt behind one ear, regarding Gabriel with thoughtful eyes. "Weird, how Beau likes you just fine, but Atty doesn't."

"An age old burden, actually."Gabriel was stiff, but let his hand fall to his side. "Before canines, _we_ were man's closest companions. A rivalry bred upon creation itself."

"Hu," she made a noise to herself. "Well, you better get over it 'cause I'd take my dog over you any day."

_Yes, I imagine you would_, he thought, not entirely thrilled about it. Then again, he never really was entirely anything.

"Let's get inside," Arin said, heading across the pasture. Gabriel walked a few paces in front of her, just in case, though he longed to be right at her side. They reached the shack and Arin un-tacked Beau, letting the sack of supplies rest on the ground until she was ready for it. It only took a few minutes before she'd slung the packs onto her shoulder and went to the cabin door. Arin unlocked and removed a huge chain. The brunette angel was intrigued that she could lift something so large; the links had to be as large as her hands. Door open, Arin went inside. She turned just in time to see Gabriel squeeze his huge frame through the opening. _Damn_, she thought. _He's just…. Gargantuan_. It didn't help that his presence was still a little overwhelming, causing butterflies to rumble around in her gut.

Keeping a wary eye, and her dog, on him, Arin unloaded her haul into the cabinets. When she filled up the first few shelves, her heart nearly beat out of her chest to find Gabriel leaning over her, placing objects above her head. Just a moment ago he'd been standing by the door, now he was organizing her extra cans of dehydrated, condensed milk. "Jesus Christ!" she exclaimed and scrambled out from underneath him.

His placid face seemed downturned. She wasn't sure if it was choice of words, or something else. "I did not mean to frighten you,"he looked down at her wide eyes, the rapid sound of her heartbeat pulsing in his ears.

"You didn't." She spluttered, knotting her hands together. "I- I gotta…um, just stay there." She babbled and lit out of the cabin. Gabriel sighed, he had been so close.

Outside, Arin leaned against the log wall and stared up at the sky. It looked like there was a light beyond the stars, winking at her. "This close to hating you," she hissed and help up her fingers about an inch apart. "This close!"

Stomping away, Arin pulled a tarp off of a few bales of hay and tossed one over to Beau, lazily falling asleep under the cover of the shed. She took deep breaths as she re-covered the feed and walked slowly back to the cabin. There was a light flickering below the door.

She pushed her way in and stopped. Gabriel had lit a fire in the iron stove. He looked at her over his shoulder as she entered. "Did… did you get cold?" Arin asked.

"No," he said, moving aside so that she could stand nearer to it.

_Ooookay…. _She gave him a wide berth, going to the cabinet. Her hunger had become evident outside, though she would have to settle for a can of ranch style beans. "So, angel boy," she jammed a knife into the top and pried the can open. "Spill. What are all those things, the ones inside my families bodies."

"They are angels, my brothers, here at the behest of God."

_Fantastic_. It sounded too ridiculous to question its truth, so Arin just set her beans on the stove and flopped onto the mattress near the fireplace. Atreyu came and curled up behind her; she rubbed her hands together and looked up. The quarters she'd been living in suddenly seemed so small. It wasn't as if the 10 by 12 glorified hut was large by any means, but with Gabriel inside it was abruptly not big enough. She batted the thoughts of his height and breadth out of her mind.

"So you're saying that angles have possessed everyone I know? Why?"

Gabriel stared into the fire. It lit his eyes in a strange way. The physical light met the ones that emanated from him as a soft purple glow. It danced around his hard cheekbones and darted in and out of the blue of his gaze. His armor reflected the light differently than any metal Arin had ever seen. It seemed first to consume it before allowing it to play on the steely surface. The sigh of an angel roused her from the little details about his feature.

"There was an age when we, all of us," Gabriel slowly brushed his fingers across the chest of his armor, "bowed before you. There was amazement in your eyes and wonder in your way, a freedom we would never know. To kneel beside you for God was the utmost of honors and in the wake of mankind's creation there was no greater success. As close as we are capable of knowing, we loved you. Some, Michael, love you still. Others," he paused and cast his eyes down in what Arin thought was something akin to shame, "lost our hope. Amidst the centuries of war and godlessness, the Lord God our father began to see blemishes in the creation of man."

"Really?" Arin huffed. "It took him that long? I mean… I think I would have figured it out after, I dunno, the _First_ Crusade." Gabriel turned his head slightly to look at her. His gaze was flat, his eyes somewhere between the thunder and the rains. Arin sighed and crossed her arms. "Right."

"The Father decreed to loose us upon humanity, to bring down his glory and admonishments and I, the obedient son, was to lead them. There were keys; children unborn that would lead a new age in the success of their parturition. God sought to end the pariah of mankind before those births." He didn't look entirely pleased. "My brother, Michael, though, defied his orders and a punishment that was intended to burn as slowly as coals broke forth as a wildfire across your Earth. A furnace of amendment laden with weeping and gnashing teeth as we rode forward in vessels that bore your loved ones faces. At Michael's hand, a child survived."

Gabriel looked down, and Arin leaned toward him. "That is where I believe you are meant to play part." He looked at her. "In this new age there will be bringers of light, reason and peace. Contenders against the darkness that will usher in life, regenerated. And, with the surviving child, our Lord's salvation."

"What?" Arin tilted her head to the side. "Why would that have anything to do with me?"

"I vowed penance for my deeds against humankind and the forgiveness of a father I was too unwise to disparage. I made an oath that I would find and protect the prophets until their need to the world is sated."

Gabriel turned and took a knee, closing the distance between them. Arin closed her mouth, acutely aware of how hot it was in the room. "That promise lead me here, and here I found you."

-GP- Mudwine-

So I know, not a great place to leave off but it is 3 in the morning here and I'm forcing myself to get some sleep before I have to go to school. I've briefly glanced over this as far as editing goes so if you notice something lemme know ASAP plz ^_^


	3. The Chains Fell from his Hands

Chapter 3. The Chains Fell From his Hands

"You are a Prophet, Arin. You must be."

Atreyu got up and slunk farther away from the angel, leaving Arin alone before him. Long moments passed. Her brow knotted as he stared at her. Finally, she spoke. "No, I'm not," she said tightly.

Gabriel tried to soften his features, not wanting to seem combative as he explained his reasoning. "I can account no other justifications for having encountered you in this desolate town."

"Well count again," she snapped. "God hates us. All his angels came down here to end our miserable lives, and _you_ led them. You stole the bodies of my mother, my father and my brothers… everyone I knew, just to kill one baby?" Her hands tightened into fists and she tried to flex them loose. "And somehow you failed; only to realize you were wrong and now, _now_ you want me believe that I'm a prophet in a new world? You want me to help you save the God that abandoned me? No. You picked the wrong girl; find someone else."

The angle's jaw tightened a tick when she stood and stomped around him, snatching her beans viciously off of the stove. _Ak!_ Her mind screamed. "Shit!" the girl shouted as she nearly dropped the searing can on the table and retracted her hand. She'd been so flustered she hadn't even considered it would be hot. "Are you kidding me!?" She raged, shaking her hand to mitigate the blistering pain. Gabriel stood, turning, and watched her stalk back and forth at the table, her back to him. Her dog too, watched her, interested.

"Arin," he started.

"I could have sworn I told you not to use my name," she hissed at him over her shoulder.

Gabriel clenched his fists and prayed for Michael's composure. He did not receive it. "Human," his voice rolled out like a slow building storm. "You _will_ hear me, for I am the messenger of Heaven."

"I did hear you!" she shouted back and turned on him. "And I didn't like it!" Atreyu's growl filled the cabin, but Gabriel ignored it.

"With your endorsement or not, you _are_ a prophet and I your protector."

"Yeah?" Arin snarled, regretting having not ridden for her life when she'd had the chance. "Prove it."

The mammoth creature froze, all the emotion that had been egging at him abating. _Prove it._ It was so foreign a thought that he was caught completely unawares. Gabriel had never needed proof, only faith; a consequence of his creation. He needed it now though, a way to convince her that their meeting was not chance and that she was not randomly untouched by the Judgment. He couldn't exactly tell her that he believed she was special because of how she made him feel. Literally. And in her state, she wouldn't acknowledge that anyway. He needed something concrete. _The prophets will be marked_, Michael had told him before he'd stolen out of Heaven. How? Like problem solving, thinking for himself was not something the angel was accustomed to. It had led him here though, he reminded himself.

"You can't, can you." Arin's voice was a taunt in his head and broke his thoughts.

He blinked and fixed his eyes on her, "have you any tattoos?" He asked

A single raised eyebrow and a one-sided lift lip contorted Arin's face. "No, I don't." She held out her arms so that he could see their bareness. She pulled down the edged of her jeans, revealing her hips and clean, sun washed skin. The young woman even drew her hair to the side and exposed her neck; chaste. Disappointment ebbed at Gabriel, even as he watched unblinking and faithful. She shook her head at him and sighed, reaching into her pocket to rub a hematite stone.

"Told you," she mumbled, turning away.

There it was.

He saw it; a darkened mark on her skin of her back, hiding at the edge of the sleeve of her tanktop. Gabriel approached her.

Arin bristled and nearly gasped at the sudden heat of his body near hers. She turned her head as she lifted a fork from the countertop. "There is something on your back," he spoke before she had the chance. His voice was quiet again, tangled between emotion and austerity.

"What," Arin craned her neck around, "are you talking about?"

Overlooking her flinching away from him, Gabriel pushed his fingers against the fabric and moved it in toward her shoulder blade. It was a thin line like a stylized hashmark the color of a dark scar, and it was met on both sides by arching symbols nearly identical to the ones that decorated the angles chest and arms. It disappeared under her shirt, but it was enough for him.

"What is it?" Arin demanded again, easing away from the pressure of his hand.

"You bare script on your skin," he said, and she swore he almost smiled.

"Bullshit," she turned to get a better look at his face. He seemed genuine, and it unnerved her. "You're lying." He wasn't. Jitters wound through her, and she hurried to a window. Arin unbound the shutters and turned her back to the glass. She pulled her shirt up to her shoulders and stared at the reflection.

In the old, warped windows and the flickering light they just looked like smudges decorating her back in loops and tangles, but they were there. Arin pulled her tank down over her skin, stunned. "No way," she mumbled.

Gabriel watched her, appeased.

"…what does it say?" she asked him stiffly.

"I do not know," he admitted. "I did not read them, Prophet."

"Well read'm then, Holy Christ!" She could feel panic replacing the numbness. "I wanna know what the damned thing says if I have to wear it. Damn it!" She showed her back to him, racking her shirt into her fingers and bracing it around her neck.

Gabriel approached her slowly, trying to give her time to calm down a little. He stared down at the interloping circles that manifested on her back. They linked together seamlessly, all separate and somehow unending in an Arthurian sort of way. They even moved, changing as he watched them, dancing though their graceful circles and editing in new prose by the moment. He couldn't see them all, though, and he reached forward, unclasping Arin's bra.

She gasped. _Oh God_, her whole body tingled. _Bad idea_. He was, after all, too beautiful and too powerful for someone as small as her to even fathom managing. She could feel the way that he studied her skin and it took all she had not to run, or to turn to his arms. It wasn't until he began reading that her attentions were torn away from such thoughts, for his voice reminded her of a song.

As soon as his skin had contacted hers, the scripture froze. Gabriel knew then that he was meant to read these words. He began slowly, on her left shoulder, letting each symbol set in his mind as he spoke. "I am a prophet of man," he said softly. "Anew in the ages that beget Beginning, I among others will usher the days forward." He moved on to an adjoining circle. "I am she who is named Candor and Abandon. I am called Perception. Erudition. I will be commemorated as she who raises the children of learnedness. She who touches the hearts of angels, and bares them souls through her faith and humanity. She who speaks and teaches of freedoms; who calls like a beacon her brothers against the wars of dogs and blows like a mounting wind for the seraph. Born is the kindred that guard the assent of the messengers, for through her man will have knowledge, and The Host will have unerring vitality. This, in creation, I am a great promise."

Gabriel's voice trailed away at the last ring of characters. They began to surge again, silently changing to say something else. He stood in quiet contemplation of the verse, tempted to bush his fingers against Arin's skin so that he might fully feel the wander of it. After minutes of silence, Arin finally pulled her shirt down.

She went in numbness to the mattress and sat down. "I don't understand," she said, eyes downcast.

_I do_, Gabriel thought. He followed her and knelt at her feet, intention in his manner. She was the knowledge of mankind, and the independence of angels.

His countenance as so intense that Arin leaned back, away from it. Her insides wrenched and against warnings in her mind, reached toward him. She wrapped her arms around her stomach to better feel like she was holding herself in. Her fingers grappled for the hematite beads in her pocket. They were comforting to her, and right now, she desperately needed them.

Wrestling her tongue for words, Arin broke his eye contact. "I- I can't be your prophet. I'm not what you want leading your new world." She rubbed a hand against her face, still in awe. "You should really, really pick someone else."

"I did not choose you; God did not choose you. The world is undone, and you are one who will reorder it."

"That doesn't make any sense," Arin curled her legs away from him.

He tilted his head, eyes unblinking. "You cannot deny that you bear qualities unlike other humans."

"I don't know what you mean," she mumbled. "I was totally normal before all this…"

Perhaps he should try another method. "Tell me how it is that found me, that you felt me," Gabriel asked.

"That's just," she put her hands out like she was holding a ball, "just an energy thing. It's like a gut warning, or intuition or something. That doesn't make me special though, ok? Anyone can do that," she tucked her hair behind her ear and pushed back into the mattress. "So why me?" She sounded almost pleading.

Gabriel slowly lifted a hand toward her. "I have seen kings and great men rise and fall. I have witnessed civilization and been party to its destruction. I have born the words of God to thousands of humans and still, in all my existence, I have never met another like you. _That_ is singularly extraordinary."

She looked out at him, his eyes dragging her in, the firelight setting a ringing halo about his hair and shoulders. He brushed the tips of his fingers against her cheeks. She remained unmoving, so he cupped her face in his hands. Arin's nerves blasted out through her skin, prickling through her in waves, though eerily her stomach settled. Gabriel closed his eyes as the emotions that waited in the recesses of his substance flooded forth. Curiosity, relief, gratitude, anguish, anticipation, sorrow, peace… Awe. He tried to keep focus on each one as they dominated his thoughts. He was unaware of his body moving, the quickening of his breath and the drawing of his muscles. He felt, and that was all he knew, all he needed. Ah, _Need_.

Arin reached up and put her hands on his wrists. Her face was turning red, her breath coming shorter. Her downcast eyes looked up to see the angel that comforted her. Was this where his prayers had come from, she wondered. _Gabriel, glorious archangel, herald of the Incarnation, strength of the just and protector of the faithful, pray for me._ Tears were rolling down his cheeks, though she had never seen anything as at peace as he seemed right then. "Gabriel," she whispered, rousing him and causing is eyes to slowly open. "What are you doing?"

He had climbed his knees onto the mattress and sat on his feet, bent over her so that their faces were just a word apart. His speech was deep, breathy and almost lost. "For the first time in five billion years, I am _feeling._" He reveled in the abandonment of the ache of longing servitude. Freedom from the Father.

-GP- Mudwine-

Soooo... whadya think so far? Another late night for me, but please, enjoy.


	4. Whose I am, Whom I Serve

*So before we get CHP4 rolling I just wanted to apologize. I was on a role with this, and my... well everything really... totally overhauled me, hence the delay on the chapter below. I'd also like to give a Hoorah and a super warm Thanks to QUEENOFTHEDEMONS for being the first to comment and to Lisa, for offering up her thoughts. They mean a lot to me ^_^. As you read this, remember that your comments, concerns and critiques are wanted and appreciated, as every one of them helps me grow as a writer and move this story forward.

Without further adieu…

Chapter 4. Whose I am, Whom I serve

Arin felt her face growing hotter. She stared at Gabriel through the minutes that he held onto her. He'd closed his eyes again, his upper lip tight and his jaw overly defined in the dim light from the iron potbelly stove. Her mind raced, trying to push away the thoughts she didn't want to want, trying to focus on something else. It wasn't working. Arin tried to remind herself to blink, but his motion caught her eye. Silently, he was getting closer to her, his face closing the small distance between them.

She held her breath as the angel rested his chin on her forehead. She stared wide-eyed at his massively broad, armored chest, air caught between her lips and her lungs. Unmoving. Gabriel's wings shifted behind him, arcing toward the wall Arin had pressed herself against. They blocked out the light, almost boxing her in; black and gleaming purple and gold in the light. She felt protected, and terrified. And then there was a coldness on her skin. A bead of water ran down her forehead, dissipating on her cheek. She knew it was a tear only by the hitch of breath that had taken the body of the angel before her.

"Gabriel," she whispered his name, though there was no response. "…Gabriel...?" Nothing again. "G-"

"Shhhh," the sound quietly interrupted her, more like a request than an order. His thumbs moved in her hair, brushing over her ears. His wings shifted again, but he did not.

"Please," Arin whispered, her pulse racing. "Stop."

Almost immediately after, a sigh breathed through her hair and Gabriel lifted his chin. He let his head hang a little, blue eyes half closed and watching Arin's shoulder. He took his hands from her face, the heat that had been radiating through him began to cool. The emotions, ragged like little used roads, had cut paths in his mind that he walked even now. He grasped at the traces of sentiment to keep them closer. "My apologies," he spoke quietly. "I did not mean to cause you discomfort." His eyes slid to look at her face. She was staring at his arms, hands knotted in her lap while his were on the bed in either side of her. He wanted so badly to back away, but he could not bring himself to give her that kind of space.

"It's ok," Arin finally blinked and shifted a little on the mattress. She reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I just… um… yeah…" She turned her head away, not able to look at him.

The angel took a deep breath and stiffly rocked back to kneel at the edge of the mattress. Arin noticed a change in the air; it was easier to breathe, but she suddenly felt a little alone. It took almost everything she had not to reach out to him then. Instead, she eased her hands into her pockets and rolled the hematite between her fingers.

Silence ensued. It was long, and strained, and Arin could feel Gabriel's eyes on her. Picking her apart, like he was looking into every day she'd ever lived through incredulous attention. She shivered, _enough_. "Ok," she blurted out before there was anything else to follow it. The angel blinked and turned his head, even Atreyu flicked an ear forward from his post at the door. "Soooo… prophets… and stuff…" she mumbled, glancing at the man-creature kneeling about a foot off.

"You believe me?" The sound of Gabriel's voice took her on a roller coaster all over again. It was strange how beautiful and sad it sounded behind that too-stiff air.

"Well," she rolled her shoulder forward and tugged at the tank top, craning her neck to see just the barest edges of light purple-brown lines and symbols that circled on her skin. They moved, and surged and fluxed, nothing she'd ever seen before. "Yeah. For now." A light flickered in the angels' eyes and Arin's breath caught again. _Damn_. "What am I supposed to do?"

Gabriel stood, becoming gargantuan to her small, sitting frame. He looked over his shoulder toward the window, the firelight dancing on the edges of his skin, blue eyes glowing purple. "There are still those who fight to carry out our Father's orders, those who seek the babe and… those who seek the apostles. You are indispensible to the new age of man, and you must gather with the remaining prophets. I will take you to a man called Jeep; he keeps the mother and the redeemer safe. My brother Michael, beloved, trusted him when the world was ending. I shall trust him now that it renews."

Arin ran her tongue over an incisor and bobbed her head just a tick. Gabriel continued. "There, he will guide us both. You till teach the worlds' children your knowledge, and it will set them free. You will raise them up above their predecessors in an era not fettered by belief, but instead, charged with it. And I," he paused, losing himself out the old warped window for a moment. "I will endure with my bother to raise our maker from delusion; ascendant to the god he once was… a bringer of rapture and a buoy of benevolence… like you."

Raking her hands though her hair, Arin muttered, still overwhelmed. "I don't think I can do this."

Inhuman eyes softened and looked down at her, haloed in stars and blanketed in eons. Universes bloomed to life in those eyes, still glassy with tears and deep with more knowing than Arin would ever know to forget. "Even on your own, Arin daughter of men, you could do fathomless things." Fathoms, _like his voice_, her mind meandered. "I stand beside you now, and your capacity is as boundless as you bid it be." Her vision blurred, a darkness arching over her angels' head and misshaping his figure. She thought she heard Atreyu's rumble, but she couldn't have forced herself to hang onto it if she'd wanted to. "Rest now, Candor, Erudition, savior of I and my brothers on high. Sleep, and I will see you through to the morning."

Arin's eyes rolled in her head, she felt the hardness of wood against her hair, then the embrace of an old, musty mattress. _Sure, see you then_… she thought, not having even remembered being tired.

The stress of the day had worn thin lines in her skin, and Gabriel would not have that, not while he'd sworn her no harm. He covered her with his wings the way he had comforted Mary in her times of need. He let a little bit of the song of heaven filter though in his voice and gave the girl some peace. She succumbed quickly, and Gabriel watched her intently as her green eyes closed. Green was not quite the right word for them though. They were flecked with gold and the brightness of newly sprouted grass; etched around the edges with a hue so dark is could have been black. Dark paths like rivulets churned out from her irises. The shades of color spun like moss under current and though they didn't glow, they glittered. Riches. Her hair tangled around her round cheeks and framed her olive colored, sun kissed skin. Cream colored scars puckered right under her hair line, above her left eyebrow. Darker ones stemmed from the neckline of her shirt, leading his eyes up her neck and back to her stubborn chin and the beauty mark above her lip.

Atreyu's grumbling pulled his attentions from her resting form, her ruddy cheeks and full, reddened lips… The dog slunk up next to him, inching toward his girl, bristled. Gabriel lowered his wings and stepped back, the shepherd calming exponentially. He sat and watched the angel with a brown stare.

"I'll do her no harm," Gabriel told him.

Atreyu flicked an ear, then climbed onto the mattress and lay down on Arin's feet, still watching the otherworlder. They both puffed air out of their noses at the same time, a hint of jealousy seeding through Gabe. He ground his teeth and turned away, a painful motion. _Father, do you hear me?_ He wondered. Closing the shutters, Gabriel watched the outside through the spaces in the slats. _I have found the prayer I set upon your ears lifetimes ago. I stand in her presence and am born again; touch her skin and quantify living. Father, I have always been you're your most obedient son. I have lead your serpents from the holy fire and brought your doing to mankind for all of my creation. _His eyes hardened thinking back on his years._ I was driven by my love for you then, less so than I am now. Know that while my actions are carried out in devotion, I will not stand down. I will not heed your orders, nor those of my brothers whom I am certain you will send. Bare armies against us, Father, and I will return them wingless and broken_.

Gabriel pulled his chin to his shoulder, feeling to metal of his collar around his neck. His eyes slid under half closed lids to watch the small, sleeping human. '_Us_.' He'd meant '_me_,' hadn't he? Arin stirred and sighed, firelight radiating little red and gold waves on her hair. No. _Us_. Gabriel returned to staring out the window. He set is jaw and unfurled his wings, wide and encompassing. Anything that came into the cabin would face his full breadth, a vision of terror and unimaginable beauty; that of an angel at war. He drew his mace from the belt slung low on his hips and gripped hard on the handle. It gave to his force, huge silver spikes jutting out of the head of it.

Rolling his shoulders, he growled low, hardly moving his lips. "Brothers… Impede us and I will tear you all asunder."


	5. Dawn of the First Day

Okie dokie! I want to start this off by saying that Gabriel's Prophet almost has 400 views this week! That makes me so damn proud ya'll don't even know! Thank you so much! For all your amazing support I'm working on drawing a cover page to put up, a token of my gratitude to my readers. Please keep reading and reviewing, I know its going a lil slow but I didn't want to rush anything. Stay with me, and thanks again ^_^

Here's Chp 5!

Chapter 5: Dawn of the First Day

Arin woke slowly to the heat of breath on her neck and the warmth of a body hugged close beside her. Dreamless. Restful. How long had it been since she'd slept like that? In that peaceful moment between waking and ascendance into perfect sleep, she let her mind stay white. This morning, her old mattress felt like feather down, and her pillow cupped her face just so. She could feel the covers just coming up to her ankles, but she was plenty warm; a twilight temperature.

A searing heat rolled like molasses across her cheeks and the brunette sighed and stirred. A hot tongue swept across her chin and, with a quick gasp, jolted her the rest of the way to wakefulness. Eyes wide open, Arin stared straight into Atreyu's black-brown eyes. He watched her with a merry look, open mouthed and tongue lolling out. Grunting, Arin let her head flop back to the pillow. She reached up and scratched her dog behind his ears.

"Good boy," she mumbled. The shepherd stood and shook himself, pulling away his warmth and comfort. Taking a full breath, Arin curled up to a sitting position and rubbed her face. As she stood, her eyes traveled around the tiny cabin and stopped almost immediately on a sea-storm gaze. Gabriel was watching her over his shoulder in silence, huge wings spanning the full front of the cabin, mace in hand.

Yesterday flooded her and her chest tightened. Twisting on herself, Arin checked for the tattoos. Seeing the churning edges under her tanktop, her shoulders drooped. "Right…" she mumbled. 60 seconds of perfection. 60 measly seconds and she was dropped back into this hell hole. She almost wished her night had sucked, with nightmares and flop sweats; the whole shebang. Anything, _anything_ but that easy, weekend wake up she used to have every Sunday. Back when Sunday's counted, back when days had names.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed her fingers over her forehead and dragged her mess of unbrushed hair out of her face. "Good morning," she forced a smile. Gabriel just nodded, then turned his attention back to the door. "Do… do you want breakfast?" she asked, eying the beans left out from the night before.

The angel blinked. Did he want breakfast? He had never had it before; his body didn't need the sustenance human bodies did. He and his brethren fed on the light of the Lord, were replenished by his word and sated by his touch. Then again, he had never spent so much time on earth, and it seemed that his body was different here than behind The Gates. After all, he touched his lip, the pucker of a scab rasping against his finger, he had bled against Michael. He had never bled in Heaven. Twisting his grip on his mace, the spikes receded and he belted the weapon. Cautiously, he tucked his wings against his back and turned away from the cabin door.

"Yes, I believe I do."

Arin, one eyebrow raised, accidentally let a chuckle escape. He'd seemed so thoughtful, so serious, over breakfast! "Ok," she bit the side of her lip and dragged the smile off her face. Motioning to Arteyu, "they eat first though."

Nodding, Gabriel watched her with a softer gaze as she walked up and past him, shouldering open the heavy door. Sunlight spilled in, making the dust in the air glitter. Momentarily, it looked like she had wings of her own; great, ethereal, golden wings, listing in and out of reality and teasing the mind with their size and shape. The muscles that wrapped his cheeks twitched and he could feel a pulling at the corners of his mouth. A smile. Gabe let his eyes follow her, his body turning to keep the view as she disappeared in to the morning light.

The girl stifled a grunt as she opened the cabin. Secretly, she was thankful that Gabriel had stood watch. Not only has she forgotten to eat, she'd forgotten to chain the door. _This dude is messin' me up_, she thought, blinking against the sun. It was bright this morning, shining down from a clear sky. Arin paused to let her eyes adjust, looking out over the property. No fences, no neighbors. The cabin was nestled at the top of a hill in the tree line, wildgrass pastures spreading like blankets all around her. The sun hadn't hit the other side of the clearing yet, leaving the pines and aspens in cold shadow. Her uncle had kept it as a hunting cabin, he'd said, but Arin had never seen him kill a single animal, or even go fishing, once in her entire life. She suspected he just used it to get away and remember how beautiful the world could be. He was soft like that. _Was_.

Arin tightened her jaw and walked around the side of the cabin to un-tarp the hay bale. Beau was already there, waiting for her. He nickered and jammed his nose into her hands. "Mornin'," she smiled at him and rested her forehead on his until he decided to rub his head against her torso. "Oof!" Arin exhaled and laughed, stepping away from the horse and digging him out a flake of bermuda. She checked his water bucket as he nosed through the hay. There was plenty of pasture grass to fill him up, but the last thing she wanted was for him to go hungry. That was why they'd hauled that bale all the way up here from the barn. It had taken them almost two days… Well worth it, Arin reminded herself.

Covering the hay, she dusted her hands off and turned around. Gabriel stood in silence behind her, looking oddly content. Arin jumped, her heart in her throat, "Je-!" she stopped herself from cursing, but only just. He tilted his head. "You _have_ to stop doing that," she grumbled almost breathlessly. _Fucking Ninja_.

"My apologies," Gabriel looked slightly less amused.

"Yeah," Arin pinched the bridge of her nose between her eyes as she made a wide circle around him. _Don't notice, don't notice, don't notice…_ she thought, feeling her cheeks turning bright red. In the sun, his armor shone gold, halos of light surrounding him. His wings radiated. His eyes, blue in any light, seemed icy and silver. It was strange how much he changed. How many different pictures of him she'd seen in the past twelve hours, it was incredible.

Arin dodged back into the cabin and pulled a bag of dog food out from under the counter. She poured Atreyu a cup and opened a second can of beans. Setting the new one, and the can from the night before, on the stove, she pulled a chair out and sat at the table. Arin glanced up at Gabriel as he stood in the doorway. He watched the dog eat for a moment, then turned his attentions to the human girl painstakingly trying to avoid eye contact with him. His brow drew together. He imagined she felt… odd… being around him. It seemed that until yesterday, she didn't even believe he existed, regardless of her noteworthy recitation of his prayers. She didn't want to help him, didn't trust him. He could see she was nervous, jumpy around him. Decades of watching people told him she was trying her damnedest to hide how much she hated him… All her emotions tangled up, unable to sort themselves out. Gabriel wondered what that was like as Arin got up, a towel wrapped around her hands, and pulled the beans off the stove. _I could know_, he thought. _I could understand…_

He blinked as she walked up, can of black beans wrapped in a rag, the handle of a spoon sticking out the top. "Here," she mumbled, eyes on the floor to keep herself from staring at the angels' expansive chest. _I could_. Gabriel slowly reached up, taking a deep breath through his nose. He wrapped his hands around the can, stealing hers against the cup and under his. Skin to skin. Arin's nerves blasted through him.

Short blips of emotion surged his system milliseconds at a time, like the way an early morning sprinkle prepared the ground for rain. His muscles tightened, reading her anxiety, fear, wonder, curiosity… lust? like a book. Nervousness, like holding electric butterflies in his veins, was followed by fear. It racked his body twisting his heart and tearing holes in his mind; voids full of darkness and unknowing. Alone, unloved. Gabriel shuddered, this was not Arin's fear… it was his. His teeth ground together. Rejection. Where would he be if he failed, if he allowed his father to remain callous? Would he be welcomed back by his brothers, forgiven or would the host leave him for not. Even Michael could not redeem him if the Father so degraded his efforts… He would live an eternity outcast and alone, the only one of his kind on earth. Out of favor. Abhorrent.

Breath catching in his throat, his eyes teared up. He let go of Arin's hands, of his breakfast, and stepped back, horror written on his face. Moments. That was all it took, but her hands still burned with the heat of his touch. Arin looked stunned. He leapt away from her like she was poison, crying.

He backed quickly out of the cabin, wings bumping the doorframe, making him look clumsy and too big. Arin bit her lip, glancing at Atreyu. He looked back at her, query in his gaze. _'For the first time in five billion years, I am feeling,'_ his words echoed in her head. "Ok," she said to herself, setting his beans down and shoveling some of her own down her throat. "Ok…" After another short set of spoonfuls, she took a deep breath and headed out the door.

Gabriel stood, wings tense at his back, staring out at the sky. Silent, not even his feathers moved in the mountain breeze. Arin walked up, grinding her teeth into her gums and punching down the butterflies in her stomach. She put a hand on his armored shoulder. Gabriel stiffened, but bowed his head to look at her, the damp traces of tears riveted in his cheeks.

"When I feel overwhelmed… when I can't get my head on straight I try to remember what I've got and what I want." After a minute, she could see that that didn't help him much, so she tried something else. "I yoga, and meditate," Arin grinned. "C'mon."

She moved a few short steps away and kicked off her shoes, unbuttoned her jeans. She reached up to the sky, spreading her fingers and she went up to her toes. A deep breath, and she planted her heels in the grass. She bent at the waist, keeping her back straight until the bottom of the swan dive, finally collapsing against her own legs, palms on the meadowland. She turned her head and looked up, Gabriel was just standing there, watching. "It doesn't work if you dont do it," she said, a sideways frown on her face.

Reluctantly, Gabriel bent and placed his palms on the ground. Arin grinned. She hopped her feet out behind her, and waited for the angle to follow suit. His eyes still watered, but tightened his lip and stepped back. Arin took her downward dog into a vinyasa and cobra. She was surprised Gabriel could move that well in his armor. Back to a downward dog, runners pose, and up into warrior one. "Try to focus on the positive things… Like, before all this," she sighed through the stretch and got low and her front leg. "I was an artist."

Runners, vinyasa, dog… "I did oil paintings." Warrior two. "I'm not gonna say I made money on it, but I was good," she smiled and moved back to vinyasa. Reverse warrior, she glanced over at Gabriel. He seemed confused, but at least that heartbreaking look of emptiness wasn't permeating his features anymore. "I, uh… I haven't painted in a month," she confessed in the middle of a vinyasa. "I miss it… about as much as I miss my mom and my brothers… my dad…" She came up in warrior three. "But on the bright side of all this mess," Arin twisted into triangle and watched as Gabriel followed suit. She almost laughed. "I don't have to pay rent."

"That, and I think I've found the two closest friends I've ever had." The brunette shook the hair out of her face and straightened up. Tree. "Something good comes out of everything… If I've figured anything in life out, it's that." Sighing, Arin stretched into dancer. "Besides, if my family was possessed by angels, maybe I'll see them again. Right?" She came out of the pose and looked at Gabriel. He'd kept up pretty well.

He didn't know, didn't have an answer. As a higher angel he didn't have to posses human bodies to walk the earth; what happened to them afterwards was foreign to him. Arin sat down, accepting his silence as a response. "So, what about you?" Arin folded one leg into herself, the other, she leaned over and wrapped her fingers around her foot, pulling her face to her knee. "What did you do before this… reckoning?"

So focused had he been on performing this "yoga" as Arin did, that he hadn't thought once about the consequences of his actions. He pondered the question for a while. Arin moved to stretching over her other leg. "I… I did as I was told." It was the most accurate answer he could come up with.

"Like, _everything_ you were told?"

He nodded and Arin paused. She sat up straight and stared at him with a furrowed brow.

"Nobody does _everything_ their told to. That's ridiculous."

Gabriel was silent. He stared into her face, those encompassing green eyes confused and… was that disgust? She was disgusted with him… The edges of shame played at him like whisper. "We were made to serve our Father, to love all his creations. I was born in his light, with no probity for his word. I knew only what he bade me, I rendered myself solely as commanded. For thousands of years we were told to love you. I did, we all did. Suddenly, Father bid us otherwise and I did as I was told. I was wrong.

"I was not created to petition my God, but I have done so. I have lived every history known to man in service to another… but no longer. It is… alien to me and I am not well cultivated in self employ."

Arin stood up, eyes still fixed on the angel. "Is He… punishing you?"  
Gabriel touched a finger to the metal hoop around his neck. He could feel it growing heavier each day since he'd stolen out of Heaven, a tome to his true loyalties. "Perhaps, though I cannot know His true purposes. I must trust my own path now…"

"What is that?" Arin walked up, less than a foot from him, her attention on his neck. "Is that a _collar_? Did you put that on?"

He nodded.

"Did He make you?"

"My father asked it of me, yes." Gabriel dropped his hand from his neck, watching her face as she studied it.

"A collar for His dogs… Not even my dog wears a collar." Her lip lifted on one side, scrunching her nose a little. Disgust. Again. She reached up and put her hands on it, wrapping her fingers around it. Gabriel was washed over with a sad, calm sense. Pity and anger. Not at him, but for him. She was angry for him, disgusted on his behalf. The emotions left a bitter taste in his mouth, seeding like hornets in his nerves. But compassion and pride fought back, his own, welling up in his chest like swelling waves to drown the negativity. He closed his eyes to it; this was what feeling was for.

As Gabriel stilled, the ethereal steel heated up under Arin's hands, clicking and whirring, like gears were moving inside it. When the metal was almost white, it popped apart and Arin pulled it from his neck. It hadn't burned her, but she could feel the warmth glowing through her arms even as it cooled. She stared at it for long moments. It was just a hunk of metal, scrawled in symbols and decorated with latches. Sucking in a breath through her nose, Arin spun on her heels and hurtled the collar as hard and as far as she could.

It sailed over the meadow, glinting like a dyeing light bulb in the midmorning sun. Gabriel stifled a sound as it crept out of his throat. It hinted at happiness, jubilance. A laugh to mirror the resemblance of giddy trepidation that jumped at his emotional stagnancy.

"And you wonder why I don't want to help your God? Why the fuck would I pray to a slaver?" Arin asked him, a wave of anger brandishing from her the same as it had the afternoon before. Gabriel wanted to wrap her up in his arms and take it away. Most of all, he wanted to feel anything but love for his Father. He wanted to be angry with him, too. Instead, he watched Arin stomp away to a tuft of thick grass and jam her hands into her pockets. She pulled out the handful of hematite beads that had once been a bracelet. Before she'd broken it all the times before, it was a necklace. Her dad had given it to her, had said that hematite would help ground her emotions when she was feeling out of control. She rolled the beads against her fingers and sat heavily down on the grass.

Coming to sit beside her, Gabriel hunched so that his wings wouldn't drag. "I'm gonna meditate," she said stiffly, straightening her back and laying her hands in her lap, palms up and open. Why would she get so worked up over a collar? Why would she defend a total stranger, let alone one that brought a war against her species? She was more irritated with herself for the sense it didn't make, than the rampant sense that it did. Arin shook her head to get rid of the thoughts. Her eye caught the angel. He'd imitated her; back straight, hands open.

She sighed. "You don't have to," she said. "Meditate, I mean. You go do whatever you want. It's about time."

Gabriel raised one eyebrow at her, then looked forward and closed his eyes, an upward curve sitting on his lips. She cared about him, enough to be angry on his behalf, enough to chaste a God. For him. "I am," he said.

Arin scoffed and smiled. She reached over and dropped a few of the brackish-silver stones in his open hands. Her fingers brushed his arm as she pulled back to herself.

He couldn't place the emotion that she was feeling, that he was feeling. He'd seen it. He knew that he knew it. One did not live the lifetimes that he had and not at least vaguely recognize this. It was a sense of fullness, of openness that never drained or fettered. It was heavy, but he did not feel weighed down. Gabriel opened his eyes to watch Arin in her silence, seriousness set in her jaw. He opened his wings and stretched them wide, shading her with one as he did so. Though her touch had faded, and all too quickly, the memory of it stayed. Closings his eyes again, Gabriel focused on it. He warmed from the inside and while he stayed seated on it, it felt as if he was slowly lifting. This mediation thing?

_It works_.


End file.
